The man wore a dark blue long robe, with the faint, coppery scent of blood still clinging to him. His expression was cold and resolute, his brows sharp and his eyes bright. A long scar ran down the left side of his forehead. His bloodshot eyes still carried a killing intent that had yet to dissipate.0

He looked about the same age as Li Guanqi, but his hands told a different story—rough with calluses, crisscrossed with old scars. Sensing Li Guanqi’s gaze, the young man turned slightly. He gave a faint, fleeting smile before raising his cup and downing his wine in one gulp.0

Li Guanqi was mildly surprised. He hadn’t expected the other man to notice his gaze. He quickly lifted his own cup, stood, and drained it in silent apology. Though he caught a flicker of doubt in the man’s eyes, he didn’t think much of it.2

At that moment,...0